I sat and have my first fag at work, pondering over my actions last night. Didn't do very much except drink vodka, chain smoked and ranted on my blog.
And when the vodka didn't help in putting me to sleep, i ramaged the whole refrigerator for medication left over that would have traces of sleep-inducing drugs in them.
A bottle of of my kids' cough syrup and 7 hours of sleep later, I am sitting at my desk wondering what am I doing with my life.
And I guess all I can say is this - I'm trying. Try my level best to keep my head above water, despite it all. Trying my best to stand my ground and fight to breathe and live another day, cos I have a lot to live for. If not for anyone else, it has to be for Lydia and Luke.
So this is me trying. And sometimes, I fail at it and that's how you get Defining Sadness, vodka at 5 and cough syrups at 10.
Eventually, I know I'll be fine. You just have to give me the leeway that I do not always land on my feet. And that when I fall down, it's usually in a really bad way.
So this is me. Trying.
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